


Naughty Professor

by iterations



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Interspecies, Lab Sex, Masturbation, Maybe a bit disturbing, Mental Instability, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Other, Scientist/Specimen, Teratophilia, Unethical Experimentation, Voyeurism, You Have Been Warned, consensual voyeurism, human/monster
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:02:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23528086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iterations/pseuds/iterations
Summary: Professor Hojo can't help himself. He actually can't.
Relationships: Hojo/Hojo, Hojo/OC, Hojo/Original Monster Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	Naughty Professor

The hum of the buzzer echoed inside the room as the key-card swiped through the magnetic slit of the reader and the doors wheezed open to excuse the last white-robed cretin from the sanctuary of the laboratory. The sound was sweet, like a lover's whisper in his ear. He immediately wound the knob on the wall to dim the lights inside the R&D department's second laboratory. This was his favorite shift. 

Specimen IV was residing inside a plexiglass cage. It was his own asset, the first one to live through the injections. It had been a SOLDIER once, one of the volunteers. Now it was a step closer to divinity. Its once chiseled arms had stretched to thin, spiky extremities that ended in sharp talons. Long tubes sprouted from its gelatinous torso. The head transformed and smoothed out, hairless, slick, _beautiful._

Touching it would mean certain death. He knew it possessed incredible speed, even though its movements inside the cage were slow and billowing. Its breathing was always heavy, rasping, _ubiquitous._ It made his limbs feel heavy.

The day shift was agony. He infused cells and watched them multiply, entered data into the computer, waited for it to crunch numbers that were unfathomable. There were too many voices polluting the air of his laboratory. Too many assistants and _'scientists'_ , that he was forced to retain. The red haired Shinra-san that signed his paychecks believed he needed help, he did not.

Hojo was the only researcher there with talent, with zeal. He would do the work without demanding a single gil in payment, the salary had been determined by HR. It plagued him that he was not yet the head of the department. Professor Gast had been lucky, he was just an archaeologist, a tomb digger. A mindless drone could dig in the dirt and stumble upon a treasure, but it took brains and imagination to do something _with_ said treasure.

Hollander was a problem though, a thorn in his side. The man had some real talent, this he had to admit. The other protégé was the reason why Hojo worked day and night to gain an advantage. His project had to bear fruit first. This was why the creature inside the cage was so precious, so _special_. It could potentially lead them to the _promised land_.

“You have the spirit of a Cetra, don't you,” he cooed softly and fawned around the cage until he reached his spot, his _special_ place, out of view of the surveillance cameras. 

The creature warbled and its bulbous flesh rolled as it moved closer to the professor. A claw raked against the barrier between them. Hojo had to press his forehead against the glass, he closed his eyes and sucked a deep breath between his teeth. He could almost feel the deity inside his mind. He was breaking out in a sweat.

He loosened the blue tie that constricted painfully below his adam's apple. His breathing was labored now, much like that of his beautiful specimen. A loose strand of hair was sticking to his forehead, tiny beads of perspiration dotted his brow. His cock twitched inside his tailored and well-pressed pants as he opened his eyes and watched Specimen IV shift. 

The asset had orifices. Not only where its mouth should be, but also on the pliable blue torso. They oozed liberally and up close like this, the scent reminded Hojo of wet cunt. It was hard to stay professional during the day, with all the so called researchers poking around the laboratory. He had to almost double over in his chair to hide his insistent erection. 

He felt so _hot_ pressed against the cage, almost touching it. His small, round glasses were fogged up, temporarily blinding him. He had to remove them and stash them in the front pocket of his lab coat. His cock was already straining against the fabric of his pants, leaking through his briefs and staining the cotton of his gray chinos. The lead of Jenova project S unbuckled his belt and slipped down a cool hand inside his briefs.

He could not stifle the gasp when his cold fingers wrapped about his hot shaft. They warmed up quickly though between the layers of fabric and the pulsing organ. The specimen moaned on the other side of the glass and the fluid that oozed from its holes made its flesh shine. Hojo grunted and squeezed his cock while he moved his hand over the wet tip and smeared his arousal over the fleshy head. It was madness, but he had never been this stiff with a human, never been this filled with need. He felt his heartbeat strum between his legs, his scrotum was tightened to the extent of almost disappearing into his body. He needed to practice his restraint to not finish right away. 

The specimen was dragging its tubular appendages over its pulsating body, dipping the talon-tipped tentacles deep inside the holes, pulling them out slowly, _sensually_. The professor was staring, mesmerized, his hand moved ever so slowly, pulling the foreskin over his glans. He could not help it, he was spirited away by the deity inside the cage. Every pat of his fingers caused shivers of pleasure to rock through his entire frame. He was panting, leaning heavily against the glass, trying not to succumb to the throbbing feeling his hand was eliciting. 

The collar of his shirt was drenched in sweat, his long, black hair would have felt abhorrent against it, if it had not been gathered into a ponytail. He could not find the discipline to stop palming himself enough to remove the lab coat. The creature could probably smell him. 

The professor would not be able to last much longer, his end was coming closer even though he tried to hold it back, tried to keep his strokes light and minuscule. The pleasure was almost unbearable, the sounds Specimen IV was making sent bolts of electricity straight to his genitals. He was a wretch, a complete pervert. Hojo had done this every night for weeks, still, there was no reprieve, no satisfaction, only a flicker of pleasure, followed by pure, unadulterated shame. Every time he did it, he promised himself it would be the last, he would not fall victim to the soul-crushing trap of want again, and every night he failed, and was pulled back into the suffocating arms of desire. 

Hot tears streamed over his sunken, ruddy, cheeks. Perhaps it was the shame that made it feel so good, he was a deviant after all. He finally let his pants scoot down over his narrow hips and his engorged, throbbing cock sprung free. The tip had a dark purple color, it was painful, he had no control over his feelings, his actions. The specimen was moaning loudly on the other side of the glass, urging him to do it, paint the glass with his sticky, white semen. It _hurt_ so bad! He was sobbing. Quiet, repressed trembles wracked his body, but he was weak, a miscreant, hated and mocked by those who did not know better... except by _it_ , the divine, beautiful ancient on the other side of the glass. So close, yet unattainable.

A harsh gasp escaped his lips as he dragged his index finger across the edge of the tip. He repeated the motion, with all his fingers, hot, white, painful jolts of pleasure surged through him. He felt it down to his toenails. There was only one thing that would bring succor. He wrapped his hand around his cock and squeezed again – holy ancients! It felt like the lifestream itself was coursing through his veins. There was no turning back, he had crossed this bridge miles ago, and the only thing he could do was to tug at himself in earnest, bring the creature what it craved. Satiate the beast, because he knew he could not satiate himself.

A final pinch, and he was crashing over the edge, pleasure surged like an avalanche from his scalp, down through his spine, spreading to every limb, and holy ancients, _his limb._ He was groaning and pressing his lips to the glass, Specimen IV was right on the other side, almost touching – _almost!_ Hot semen spewed between his fingers in vicious spurts, hitting the glass with splashing sounds that seemed to echo loud inside the entire laboratory. It almost did not stop, he _wished_ it would not! It did though, as always. He wobbled back a few steps from the glass, his spent cock now bobbing over the open lining of his meticulously pressed chinos. He inhaled deeply and collected himself. This would _not_ happen again. This was the _last_ time! At least he had not opened the cage. He had not crossed the line, he would _know_ before he crossed any line!

Distraught, he pulled up his pants again and fastened the belt. His cock-head still dripping and the dark stain on the front of his pants was ever spreading. Damn it! He would need to fetch a spare pair from his locker. He pulled out his folded glasses from his front pocket and polished the worst grease from them against the hem of his lab coat before he put them on. _There._ Himself already. He coughed discreetly and hunched forward as he crossed the view of the cameras. His key-card fit nice and snug between the metal lips of the card reader and the buzz that followed was like a lover's whisper in his ear.

**Author's Note:**

> This was short, sorry. If you have any Hojo-recommendations, please share in the comments. Not a super-popular character...


End file.
